Autobiography of Sir John Rennie, F.R.S. 39

Autobiography of Sir John Rennie, F.R.S. 39

latterly at the rate of about eight miles an hour, which, he said, had

saved us. The city of Granada, although extensive, appeared to be, like

most of the towns I there saw, in a state of decadence, little trade,

and consequently no prosperity. The lords of the soil seldom visited

their estates, but left the whole to their factors or managers; and when

the proprietor did come, he seemed to take no interest in his tenants

or labourers, but lived in a half-ruined château in a miserable manner,

reserving all for show and extravagance. Manuel said, that as our route

lay through the mountains, and as it was very unsafe, it was absolutely

necessary to take one or two escopoteros or armed police, to escort us at

least as far as Andujar: this I at once consented to do, and we were now

no contemptible party, consisting as we did of six well-armed men.

 

After halting at midday at Jaen, we proceeded through an open country,

which presented anything but a thriving and prosperous appearance; the

peasants were returning from their labour armed with guns, and they had

a savage and discontented look. Manuel, who did not like the look of

things, went up and spoke to one of them. When he came back to me he said

that we must not go to Andujar that night, as the peasant had told him

that there was a strong band of brigands in the neighbourhood, who had

plundered the country right and left, so that all the country people were

obliged to go armed and keep together. On hearing this news I resolved

to stop for the night at a small village about two miles in front of

us, which Manuel said was decidedly the best plan. We halted there a

little before sunset, and a wretched place it was, without even a venta

or public inn of any kind; I therefore hired one of the most respectable

of the cottages, which was more like a stable or cowhouse than anything

else, although it had a kitchen, and one or two rooms abovestairs; the

floors were of broken brick, there were no windows, and only some planks

on tressels for beds, with one or two broken chairs. However, we were

able to purchase materials for supper, and with cloaks, saddles, and

bags very soon made beds. I confess I did not like the place at all. As

we might be attacked during the night, we barricaded the house as well

as we could, and slept in our clothes, with our arms ready, and one

man keeping watch. Having done this we went to sleep, but were awoke

soon after midnight by loud cries and screams, and a man began knocking

violently at our door asking admittance, crying out that the robbers

were come. We were up in an instant, prepared to give the rascals a

warm reception. We had scarcely made our dispositions for defence when

the robbers, to the number of at least a dozen, made their appearance,

well armed, and demanded our money, horses, and baggage, on pain of

death. These I determined not to yield, and defied them. They, seeing

that we were well armed and prepared for a stout resistance, hesitated

for a minute; and I, not wishing to push matters to extremities, called

to Manuel to tell them, that as for yielding to their demands it was

ridiculous, and if they did not go away at once, I should be joined by

some troops, and then every rascal of them would be shot; but if they

chose to send four or five of their men to escort me towards Andujar

I would pay them liberally. They then consulted, and agreed to the

proposal, when I told them that I should be ready to start at five in the

morning. Accordingly, at the appointed time, our friends, armed to the

teeth and well mounted--as rascally-looking a set as ever one saw--made

their appearance. I gave them a cigar and glass of brandy each, which put

them in good humour. I could get on tolerably with Spanish, and entered

into conversation with them; they were very agreeable, and told some

curious stories. Manuel came riding up to me and told me to be upon my

guard, for that one never could be sure of them for a moment; however, I

thought the best plan was to show no fear. At nine o’clock we got to our

destination, at a miserable village between Andujar and Cordova, where

we went to a wretched venta; I gave them a breakfast of such as we could

get, with cigars. I paid them handsomely, and so we parted, apparently

the best of friends. My guide and worthy friend Manuel, as we left, said,

“You seem to be very well pleased, but you don’t know these ratteros. I

hope that we have done with them, but I very much doubt it; you have paid

them too well not to make them wish for further acquaintance with you,

and depend upon it we shall meet them again, when we shall perhaps not

be so well prepared.” “Well,” I said, “we have got rid of them for the

present, and if we happen to make their acquaintance again, depend upon

it we shall have the best of it.” We jogged on all the day through a wild

but not uncultivated country; the land was rich--plenty of vines, olives,

corn, maize, and fruits, and everything, if properly cultivated, well

calculated to make the people comfortable and prosperous; yet everything

around denoted misery, poverty, and wretchedness. When I talked to the

people they seemed reasonable enough; they said that they toiled from

morning to night, but never got paid, or at least so little that they

could not live upon it; and then, what with the government taxes and the

priests, it was impossible to live, so that there was no use in working.

I certainly could not help sympathizing with them, for they are really

a fine generous people, and if they were properly treated, there is not

a finer race anywhere. Unfortunately there is no middle class, and the

nobility are completely worn out, so that the unfortunate peasants are

ground down to the lowest misery; yet with all this there is a nobleness,

independence, and enduring fortitude about a Spanish peasant which causes

you to admire them the more you know of them. I soon recognized their

character, and appreciated it accordingly. Whenever I entered a venta

or posada I always made it a point to treat the host and hostess with

frankness and courtesy as if we were equals, also to show myself ready to

oblige and to assist in any preparations that might be going on. Thus I

secured the utmost attention, and they readily produced their best at the

cheapest rate, a result which no amount of money would have obtained.

 

But to return to my story. When within seven miles of Cordova, while

passing near the small fortress of Ercaloro, at about half-past five in

the evening, i.e. not long before sunset, I met a priest, who told me

that it would be impossible to proceed, as he had observed five mounted

robbers prowling in the olive woods between the fortress and Cordova,

who would be certain to fall upon us; and that, moreover, they were in

all probability only the scouts of a much larger body. Manuel exclaimed,

“Did I not tell you that we should meet these rascals again?” I, however,

replied that I was determined to reach Cordova that night, and asked the

priest to introduce me to the governor of the fort. To this he willingly

consented, and the governor having heard my story, was so obliging as to

say that he intended sending fifty men to Cordova next day, but that they

might accompany me now. We accordingly started and soon came in sight of

the five mounted men, who sure enough proved to be our five old friends,

who very soon turned and galloped off as hard as they could. We fired one

or two shots at them; but as night was coming on we thought it best not

to pursue, and continued on our way to Cordova, which we reached at eight

o’clock, very glad to get off so well.

 

From Cordova we reached Seville, where Mr. Wetherall, the Consul,

strongly advocated the introduction into England of Manzanilla, a wine

then scarcely known. I requested him to send me a hogshead, which was

universally approved of, and henceforth the taste for pale dry sherry

has entirely superseded that for the old golden and brown, and there is

no doubt that as a tonic it is far superior.

 

The road across the Sierra Morena was kept clear by the singular

expedient of intrusting its defence to a body of German colonists, who

held considerable lands and dues on condition of keeping the roads

free from brigands. This plan answered admirably; in a very short time

the brigands were exterminated, and after that, though no patrols were

ever seen, yet if any fresh bands ventured to appear, the Germans were

instantly under arms and never relaxed their pursuit until the brigands

were either destroyed or driven out of the country.

 

We proceeded by diligence from Seville to Madrid; and when we reached

Ocãna, after having travelled three days and nights, our majoral or

conductor had compassion on us, and said we should halt for the night;

that is, we arrived about nine o’clock and he said we must be off again

at five in the morning; this, however, was a great release, and we all

thanked him; but I believe we had no great reason for being so very

grateful for his kindness, as it was rumoured that if we had proceeded

we might have been attacked by the Carlists. However, be that as it may,

we got a comfortable bed, to my great surprise. The cholera had been

flying about the neighbourhood, and I felt a slight attack of it, which

I got rid of by a few drops of sal volatile and camphorated spirits

in a wineglass of cold water. At five in the morning we started from

Ocãna, after getting a biscuit, a cup of chocolate, and glass of cold

water, which one finds almost everywhere in Spain; indeed, rough as

the travelling was in those days--and it could not be worse--we always

got most excellent bread, eggs, and sometimes milk and wine, although

the latter was generally new, and as thick as porridge and almost

undrinkable; still with bread, eggs, and milk one could always get on.

 

When I arrived at Madrid, the city was in the greatest state of

excitement; the Carlists were making war in the most vigorous and

successful manner, headed by the celebrated Zumalacarragui; and it

being dangerous to talk politics, I particularly avoided them, and went

about seeing everything I could as a stranger. I also called upon our

minister, Sir George Villiers, whom I had known in England, and was most

kindly received by him. I here met a Colonel Downie, who had served

under Wellington and afterwards settled in Spain. He spoke Spanish

perfectly, and was much respected by the natives, which was saying a

good deal for him; for the Spaniards are a most peculiar people, and

especially the upper classes, extremely reserved and exclusive towards

strangers. Personally, however, I have no reason to complain, for they

were very civil to me. I was introduced by Downie and other friends, and

had an opportunity of visiting some of the first families of the place,

amongst others the Veraguas, the descendants of Columbus, of Cortez,

Viluma, Frias, and others. I went to their tertulias or conversaziones,

which were the only kind of society to be had when I was there; in

fact, parties were so divided on account of the civil war that many of

the great houses were shut up. At the tertulia there was nothing but

conversation, so that with the exception of the lights there was no

expense of entertainment. As you were leaving the house, in the hall the

servant presented you with a glass of cold water, with a biscuit of flour

and sugar, which, when taken with the water, was not unpalatable. At one

of these tertulias the servant, in the midst of the conversation, brought

to the lady of the house her supper, which she set to work on, without

making the least remark; in fact, it was usual, and no person thought

anything of it.

 

Having now viewed everything worth seeing in the city, I determined to

see something of the environs, and accordingly asked Downie to accompany

me to Toledo; and as politics were very uncertain, I thought it better

to be doubly armed with passports. I therefore got our minister, Sir

G. Villiers, to verify mine, and also the minister of police, a very

gentlemanly man, the Marquis of Viluma, who was unusually civil, and gave

me a capital dinner and a special passport for Toledo.